


Tim Tam Learns About The Shit.

by PanDisasterMan



Category: Smile For Me (Video Game)
Genre: (The beginning of) a found family, Angst with a Happy Ending, FK is Mute and uses they/them pronouns, Gen, Implied/ Referenced Animal Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Pranks mixed with Malicious intent, Tim Tam is they/them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-08 17:39:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19475485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PanDisasterMan/pseuds/PanDisasterMan
Summary: FK runs into Tim Tam and tells them what happened.  B-n-E's, sycamore seeds, trick shots, and small fires ensue, not necessarily in that order.Little sequel to Lora_Blackmane's fic (https://archiveofourown.org/works/19332382)and a small continuation of CircusEpidemic's fic (https://archiveofourown.org/works/19408675)





	Tim Tam Learns About The Shit.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you Lora_Blackmane for letting me piggyback on your work! This was really fun to write.

It’s been a few days since the Flower Child was discovered by Boris.

The two weeks they had spent scrounging around for food slowly fading like the bruises on their arms and face.

It’s been weird, but not bad.

Neither really knew what proper guardian/child relationships looked like, but both were holding up well. They clean and have dinner together, Boris happily asking what was on their mind, or what kinds of plants would look nice in the courtyard. Flower kid would sign back happily and eat in peace. The small snippets of domestic normalcy heal them both, slowly soothes home life trauma.

Flower child loved this setup, loved that they had a decent guardian, but they missed their old life just a smidge.

They missed their comfy home PJs and their, now ruined, teal jacket, and their llama sleepy slippers. They missed making bouquets for the kind townsfolk and accepting the good neighbor’s cookies. They missed all their flowers and seedlings and their weird Garfield Chia Pet. Homelife was shit, but their room was their little slice of safe paradise.

Now that they were actually safe, they couldn’t go back, not after last time. It saddened them that the little chunks of their happiness were within their sight, but out of reach.

Boris notices instantly. Flower kid wasn’t their usual sunshiney self. Their smile wasn’t really fake, but it was strained like they were hurting alone.

He gently asks if they wanted to talk about it, english broken and full of concerned emotes.

They shake their head slowly and sign that they wanted to go outside. Boris accepts the change in pace and claps his hands.

He excitedly announces that both of them are going to drop by the grocery store, handing the child new shoes and clothes (bought and delivered to them by the ever wonderful Kamal).

He exits their room and continues to ramble about dinner. Flower child silently chuckles as he goes on and on about lasagna viruses and bananas for whatever reason.

Both Boris and the kid meet Kamal outside the Habitat’s gates. The child signs a greeting and tilts their head at the former assistant.

The man smiles and says, both amused and reluctant, that if he didn’t tag along Boris would most likely end up buying desserts and canned pasta for groceries.

The taller man hops into another animated ramble about the benefits of canned goods, causing the other two laugh quietly as they start making their way down town.

Once inside the store, the three of them stick relatively close. With Kamal’s help, they manage to get a mostly balanced and useful stock of food. They were almost done when the trio spotted the little purple bundle of chaos.

Tim Tam was there, silently stealing sweet potatoes for god knows what. The adults still, and promptly change course, but flower child signs that they wanted to chat with them.

Kamal hesitantly agrees, knowing that the little flower power was more than capable of handling the little demon, and leads Boris to the check out line before the tiny terror could steal their food.

Flower kid signs a brief greeting, and the two stare at each other. Before the florist can ask them for a favor, the smaller one starts.

“Explain.” Eyeing the kid’s healing face.

The child wavers for a second, and proceeds to summarize what had happened. The abuse that leads them to the Habitat, the fight upon returning home, the grievous harm and saintly neighbors, and Boris.

If they were looking at the other, they’d have seen Tim Tam’s mouth twitched into a frown.  
The flower kid sighs, emotionally drained and relieved that they could vent about it with a peer.  
The purple child hums minutely and pulls a small bottle of rubbing alcohol and matches from their boots.

“Revenge.”

Startled panic seeps through the florist’s soul and wildly signed that arson wouldn’t solve anything. They sigh and ask if the master thief could simply get their things back.

The other nods and leads them outside the store.

The adults watch on in confused, cautious silence as the children interact.

Tim Tam nods again and looks on the ground, picks up a spiky sycamore seed, and looks to the child for permission. The kid agrees with a mischievous look on their face.

“Sweet.”

The purple embodiment of chaos hands them a single stolen sweet potato.

Boris and Kamal knew the kid was scary, whether they spoke or not, but a distinct chill runs through the adults’ souls as the purple one walks away.

“Justice for my comrade.”

* * *

  
Its midnight when they make their way to the florist’s old home. Armed with a large bag of sycamores and a trowel they begin.

Tim Tam digs up small inconvenient spots to plant the spikes, around the perimeter of the building, in their flower beds, and under their driveway. They look into their bag, six more.

The little one nods to themselves and wiggles their way in through the doggy door.

The dog doesn’t fret. Tim Tam is disturbed by this. The animal looks tired and hungry… and hurt.

The kid didn’t mention a puppy. The pigs must have adopted another innocent creature to torture.

Their stomach churns with disgust and resolve, and sneak their way to the flower child’s old room.

Tim Tam hums in thought and begins packing all the child’s clothes and shoes first. Then their toys and bed sheets. They locate a small empty backpack which they fill carefully with flowers and seeds and a strange cat plant.

Making their way to the door was easy enough. They simply opened the back door and placed the bags by the street before making their way back inside, sycamore seed bag swaying.

Sneaking inside the parents’ room, the purple menace deposits a seed in each of their sleeping slippers, then two in their bathroom.

Tim Tam glares at the sleeping scum, silently wishing the young florist hadn’t restricted the revenge parameters.

On their way out, they gently pet the dog’s forehead, shut off the electricity, and slam the door as loud as they can.

Tim Tam takes a moment and revels in the loud shouts of surprised anger, the yelps of pain, and the string of curses and stumbling.

A hand carefully, lightly, rests on their small shoulder. They still and whip around.

It’s an elderly man with his wife behind him, cautious.

The fact that the elders hadn’t already called out in alarm lead them to assume that these were the people who helped the child escape with their life.

“Justice has been served. My comrade will rest well tomorrow. Need help returning their things.”

The two adults looked like a strange mix of thankful, scared, and amused. The old people quietly stare at each other, silently communicating if they were really going to do this.

There’s a jingle of car keys, a nod. Then, the two help carry the bags into the back of their old car, Tim Tam carefully cradling the backpack full of flora.

* * *

  
Kamal and Habit are sitting in the Lounge, sipping Shirley Temples and going over the ramifications of legal guardianship and adoption, when they hear loud knocks on the Habitat’s gates.

Both adults share a confused look, not sure they heard correct before they ascend the lounge stairs and open the door to see Tim Tam with two sweet elderly people.

The four adults chat amongst themselves for a while. Boris profusely thanking the older folks, Kamal helping translate his fast rambling, and the other two thanking them for keeping the child safe and fed.

Tim Tam watches this for a bit before tugging the oldest man’s shirt soft.

“Keys please.”

The man happily gives the small purple demon his keys, trusting and willing, and watches them take the bags of reclaimed things up to the florist’s room.

Boris and Kamal stare between the man and the child in shock. Completely flabbergasted at the man’s trust and Tim Tam’s manners.

The chatter fades as they go into the kid’s room. Slowly and quietly, they put away their clothes, shoes, sleepy slippers, everything, in its rightful place.

The flower kid wakes up later to the sight of their Garfield Chia Pet and all their things in their new room. They aren’t ashamed to admit they cried for hours.

When Boris enters with their breakfast, they jump out of bed to hug him tight and sign that they’re okay before the man could ask.

Tim Tam and the elders return later that day with fresh cookies and a new (stolen) jacket. The flower child runs and hugs them all tight, rapidly signing thank yous while sobbing.

The elders and the purple child return to town, Tim Tam thanking them before walking off and promising them that they will return soon enough.

They walk around town until they happen across Millie Coulro.

“Dog and Nuclear Charizard. You in?”

* * *

  
Was Millie actually going to do it?

Were they going to be Tim Tam’s pawn once again for a puppy and a rare Pokemon card? Of flipping course, she was like 5.

As she lit the paper doggy bag on fire, the purple fiend waited by the back door, ready to go.  
The golf wiz walked across the street, readied her club, and shot a sycamore seed hard against the door. The two strange old people gave her a thumbs up before telling her to crouch out of sight.

Tim Tam wished they could see the scums stop out the poop fire, but they were on a mission.

At the sound of angered alarm, she wiggled in the dog door.

The pup whined low at the shouting and shook. They easily slipped the dogs leash off its skinny neck and wiggled them both into a bush. After everyone heard the telltale sound of two pairs of feet stomping away, Tim Tam carries the weak dog across the street.

Millie is still on the ground, cackling. She didn’t know why, but doing that felt so profoundly right.

She sits up, hearing the concerned mumbles of the elders.

In cradled in the demon’s hands is a malnourished and hurt english springer spaniel pup. Millie goes cold and looks at the house she just harassed.

Who could be so cruel?

Now, she knew that she wasn’t the nicest. Millie was mean and said hurtful things and hurt some clowns, but she would never hurt innocent beings. Clowns were all evil and needed to be taught a lesson. But, puppies, animals, not even old enough to administer a proper bite, don’t deserve that.

They all go inside and give the dog some water and a small bit of mushed up carrots.

The girl is concerned, but glad that the dog was doing better.

The old folks pat Tim Tam’s hair, an action never seen before without the addition of body parts being stolen, then turn and smile at the small coulrophobe.

They both explain that the dog needs to be fed small meals at a time, walked a couple of times a day, and light affection, so she didn’t press on the hurt areas.

She nods listening, not back talking for once, and promises that she’ll treat the dog good.

They leave the house together and walk for a while.

Before they part, Tim Tam slips the Nuclear Charizard under Millie’s hat, then runs off to the unknown.


End file.
